


Still Indestructible

by purplelacemoon



Category: Billary - Fandom, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelacemoon/pseuds/purplelacemoon
Summary: After his quadruple bypass surgery, Hillary goes to sit at Bill's bedside





	Still Indestructible

**Author's Note:**

> This is really only pretty short, but after the totally precious and touching videos that @royaltyissshe64 shared of Bill and Hillary recounting Bill's surgery I felt compelled to write at least something based on all the feelings that footage sparked 
> 
> & thank you so so much @vodkastinger/hillchill for putting up with my billion medical related questions and checking that this actually makes some kind of sense! <3

Hillary watched as the nurses left the hospital room and made their way down the corridor, giving her the nod that she was free to go in. She took a steadying breath before pushing the heavy doors open and stepping inside and her eyes instantly fell on her husband lying fast asleep in his bed. The man whom sleep so often evaded looking so incredibly peaceful, still hooked up to various complicated looking machines.  
  
The surgery had gone well. After four excruciatingly long hours he had been wheeled out of the operating room and into recovery, and Hillary was sure she had never felt so relieved in all her life as she and Chelsea had rushed over to him as he waved from his bed at anyone who looked his way, almost as though he was working the room at a campaign rally. Hillary had been swept right up in his giddy happiness, the effects of the drugs he was on still evident as he beamed at her and talked about Iceland and Ireland and how incredibly much he loved her.  
  
It had only been after he was wheeled away again, and Chelsea had gone to call Dorothy, that Hillary fully felt all of her emotions come crashing down around her as she finally had space to breathe and feel the sheer weight of the situation completely sink in.  
  
Still lingering by the door in his room she approached the bed tentatively, her usual penchant for control thrown completely off by the helplessness shared by anyone setting foot in this particular building who could do nothing but stand back and place all their confidence in the care of their loved one with the professionals entrusted with that responsibility.  
  
“Hi honey.” She finally managed to speak to him, her eyes already filling with tears and everything went slightly blurry around her for a moment before she quickly blinked them away.  
  
“Well you made it. Just like you kept saying you would.” She found herself smiling a little, recalling his enthused insistence that they had dodged a bullet and ‘this was actually a _good_ thing.’ Hillary shook her head at the memory. _Just how much of a bullet dodge is it if it just places you right in front of another potential bullet._  
  
She stroked her fingers through his thick white hair and lay her hand over his forehead, observing how well rested he looked.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re finally getting some good sleep.”  
  
The sound of her own voice was almost unrecognizably soft and quiet in the intimidating surroundings of the hospital room. She reached down and slipped her hand gently over his, feeling the smoothness of his skin and longing for the way he would always grip her hand in return. No matter what was going on in the world around them, she had always felt safe when he held her hand enveloped in his.  
  
“Do you remember when you did this for me?” She stroked her thumb lightly up to his fingers and then back down again in a repetitive motion. “When I was the one lying on the bed, about to be cut open for our baby girl.”  
  
She paused as memories flooded her mind of everything about that day.  
  
“I was so terrified and you were just so calm and positive, constantly telling me everything was going to be okay.”  
  
_‘It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine.'_

The exact same words he had uttered over and over again to her and Chelsea that very morning as he faced the prospect of his own surgery. Hillary felt her voice tremble as she remembered.  
  
“Now we’ve switched places and you were _still_ the one saying it’s going to be fine, while I sat there trying to keep it together.”  
  
Hillary brought her other hand to rest on top of the one already cradling his as she felt herself getting teary again.  
  
“And you never let me be alone. From the moment they told us Chelsea was breach to the moment they lifted her out and we heard her cry for the very first time, you stood right there with me and stroked my hand and everything felt okay.”  
  
She pulled her hand away for a second to wipe at her tears, trying determinedly to pull herself together. “And it was. It was okay. And this is going to be too because I’m not going to leave you alone either okay?”      
  
The quiet was broken by the sound of her dragging one of the plastic chairs across the room as close to the bed as she could get it. She sat down, still holding his hand and watched the steady bleeping of the heart monitor and all the machines he was connected to, registering each beat of his heart and every breath in his body.  
  
_73 minutes._ Hillary kept finding those numbers swirling through her head over and over again. The length of time his heart had been stopped and he was reliant solely upon those machines. She had almost felt as though she had barely taken a breath during those long minutes either. Pacing the waiting area, busying herself with the coffee machine and the water dispenser as she put on a brave front for Chelsea’s sake, both watching the metallic second hand of the large clock on the clinically white wall tick round and round the clock face.  
  
“I kept on praying.” Her whisper was barely even audible to herself now, staring down at the beautifully glinting ring he had chosen for her, proudly on her finger. “I can’t even remember what I said now thinking back, but I guess it worked out okay because here you are.”

Her eyes were still downcast, and a warm tear from her cheek slipped down and splashed onto their connected hands. She blinked as several more followed and she cleared her throat and wiped them away, trying to place her focus on something else.  
  
“Anyway, we need you back on top form because we need a rematch that game of Upwords we played right before you went in. This time when I can’t claim the excuse of being plagued with worry because that really was shockingly bad.” She chuckled to herself a little, rolling her eyes slightly at the ridiculousness of trying to lighten the mood and make him laugh while he was unconscious but feeling comforted at the prospect of returning to normality again.  
  
“Not that it seemed to affect your game.”    
  
She toyed with his hand a little more, stroking with her palm and clasping her small fingers around his. The quiet of the room seemed to swallow them both up for a moment until Hillary heard her own voice again.  
  
“I know you were thinking about your step-father. Almost being the exact age he was when he…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, although there was nobody around who could hear it anyway. She squeezed his hand a little tighter, knowing if he was awake he would have been able to tell just by looking at her that he wasn’t the only one in that room thinking about their father.  
  
Seeing him lying there beneath all those tubes and hooked up to all those monitors had flashed her right back to being by her own Dad's bedside eleven years ago. Sitting there day after day, knowing exactly what was coming yet still holding slightly to the hope that somehow it might not. Everything even sounded exactly the same; from the hushed voices speaking in terminology she was only half familiar with to the clicking footsteps up and down corridors and the repetitive beeping of the machines. _Even the games._ While she and Chelsea and him were playing cards and word games the night before she hadn't been able to shake the memories of playing Tetris with her brothers in that hospital room in Little Rock, whiling away the hours and waiting for the inevitable.  
  
_But this is different._ She kept on reminding herself firmly. _He’s already woken up, he’s okay._  
  
She looked over his face again; not a single line on it and his eyes so peacefully closed as he lay in his deep sleep. When she focused on only his expression the rest of the room seemed to melt away around them and she found herself wishing they were back at home, tucked up in their own bed with the morning sunlight spilling through the large windows where she could curl up beside him and snuggle against his chest and feel his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close.  
  
“We’ll be home soon honey. Chelsea’s been looking up healthy recipes she thinks you’ll like and we’ve both sworn we’re gonna make sure you take it easy.”  
  
Hillary’s eyes drifted over to the heart monitor again, slowly becoming hypnotized by the rhythmic beep reminding and reassuring her that he was very much still there and very much alive. Her grip on his hand tightened without even realizing what she was doing and the gentle sound of her own voice cut through the emptiness of the room one more time.  
  
“I love you so much Billy.”  
  
She stroked her thumb over his ring finger for a moment and then her own, thinking back over the promise they always made to each other when they were faced with difficult times.  
  
“Our best days are still ahead.”


End file.
